A Defective Redemption
by Optimum Ace
Summary: Hisao Nakai and Zander Keir are both transfers to Yamaku, and both gripped by an uncertain future. Perhaps through each other and with the help of a few friends, they can learn to pave their own way. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE! Hisao x Shizune pairing.


A/N: Hello all and thank you for taking the time to give this fanfiction a read! A few notes before we begin to help you all understand what's going to go on here. This will be a Hisao x Shizune fiction as you surely saw from the tags, however it will also contain an OC. This OC however, will have his path choices chosen by you, the readers. At the end of a chapter the OC will have a conversational choice just like Hisao did in Katawa Shoujo, and according to the choice the readers make the decision will be made. The story will begin at Hisao's entrance into Yamaku High School, however the events will take it beyond the end of the game. If all of this suits you just fine, then please enjoy the story and be sure to review! Credit to Dave for proofreading and editing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Katawa Shoujo or any of its characters.

Chapter 1: A Blank Slate

Bad news it seems, comes in waves. Somewhere farther north, a high school student named Hisao Nakai was having his first encounter with Arrhythmia under a chilled winter sky. Down on Okinawa, the weather might have been warmer, but an icy wind of change was encroaching with haste.

Camp Gonsalves was a U.S. Marine Corps jungle warfare training center, and it was the only home Zander Keir had ever known. The boy's father was the base commander, a cold and uncompromising man who held Zander to a marine's standard. It was why Zander was out on the base running P.E. circuits with the recruits when he himself was not even enlisted. For as long as he could remember, his father was breeding him to be a marine.

Zander never knew his mother, but he often thought about why she dumped him off the way she did when he was born -these long runs were good for that sort of thing. His father had never been married, but the woman whom he had been seeing got pregnant and never told him. When Zander was born, his mother dumped him on his father and simply disappeared.

"Come on! Come on! Move! If you're too slow you're as good as dead in the field marines!" The loud voice of the drill instructor shook Zander from his thoughts. This return to reality was not for the best, as he often retreated into his thoughts as a form of pain management.

Pain, a familiar concept. Zander had a very high pain threshold, as more often than not, physical activity lead to a sore body. To him this was natural, some painkillers and a good night's rest were his solution and that was the end of that. It never occurred to him that such constant amounts of discomfort could be something worth worrying about.

"Alright line up!" the instructor shouted, his wide brimmed hat sitting so far forward it obscured nearly half of his face. Despite not really being a soldier, he was still training with them and thus lined up when ordered. Compared to the other soldiers, Zander was rather short. He stood at about 5'8" or 173cm, but he was broad shouldered and looked particularly athletic.

"You call yourself marines?" the drill sergeant barked, baring his teeth like some rabid dog. "Keir was ahead of you all the entire time and he's not even out of high school!" the instructor jabbed a finger in the direction of Zander. The kid had grown up on the base, all the officers knew him well -as a matter of fact they could claim that _they_had more of a hand in raising him than the base commander did.

"Polaski, what the hell kind of form was that?" the instructor went on, chewing out several other soldiers.

When the sergeant had finished with his rant, the mass of sweaty soldiers returned to their barracks to change out of their P.E. clothes and clean up. Zander however, headed off to the administration building where his father's office was.

Stepping inside the building, he followed his daily path through the hallways that lead him to his father's office. Upon reaching a desk, a lone soldier in uniform sat at a desk just outside the commander's office.

"Hello Corporal Tannis, is my father in?" He spoke respectfully and offered a polite smile, the secretary to his father had always been nice to him.

"Oh, hi there Zander. Yes your dad is there, go ahead in." Tannis returned the smile and gestured to the door.

Approaching the large oak door, Zander knocked with three sharp raps of his knuckle right under the brass nameplate that read 'Base Commander Dimitry Keir'.

"Come in," a gruff yet even voice called through the door.

Turning the knob and stepping inside, Zander closed the door behind him before turning to his father and standing at rapt attention.

"Your scores on the Jungle Endurance Course are not as high as they should have been." The base commander spoke without even looking up from the paperwork on his desk. There was an icy sense of apathy that emanated from him. It was as if Zander was simply something he had to _deal _with on a daily basis-the quicker, the better. "You're going to run it again tonight."

Zander could feel his jaw clench tightly, though his pale green eyes were still locked onto the wall behind his father. He just did a full P.E. session after school, and he had school in the morning. On top of that, as much as Zander refused to admit it, he was having a tough time recovering lately. He liked to attribute it to scholastic stress, it was easy to write off his would-be worries.

"Yes sir." He didn't argue with his dad, it's not like it would do any good anyway.

"Good, now move out," still his eyes remained glued to the reports on his desk. Zander simply turned on his heel and headed back outside.

Camp Gonsalves was an advanced training base, not often a permanent posting. This meant that the marines stationed here stayed on base, there was no military housing for families of the troops. Even the base commander had on-base quarters, and without parents, siblings, or a spouse, Zander stayed on base as well.

Spared the misfortune of having to stay in the recruit barracks, Zander had a room in the officers wing. He always had a feeling this was more because there was a surplus of open officer rooms rather than his father looking out for him.

Rummaging through his things to find the appropriate gear, Zander changed into a uniform and donned his jungle survival gear. Confident he was not forgetting anything, he left his room and jogged out of the building towards the Jungle Endurance Course.

The jog to the course was short, and sure enough when Zander arrived, there were different groups of marines milling about to run the course with a squad. A particular sergeant stood out among the marines milling around.

"Sergeant Perez!" Zander called over the dull roar of a few dozen chatty marines. The sergeant was tall, dark skinned, and wore a confident smirk at all times that gave his young face a mischievous edge. The sergeant had been posted here as an instructor since he graduated from the Jungle Warfare program at the top of his class. Having only graduated the program five years prior, he was the youngest drill instructor on base.

"Yo! Keir, how you doin' man? Here to run the course again?" the sergeant offered a wide smile as he set his hands on his hips and turned to face the young marine-to-be.

"That's right, are you running the course today?" Zander looked around quickly to see if any of the other instructors were about.

"Sure am, though didn't you just run the course yesterday? It's pretty intense, why would you run it again today?" there seemed to be a knowing look in the sergeant's eyes, Commander Keir was a tough man.

"I didn't score well enough last time, I need to do better." His tone was very self deprecating, but his expression was that of stone-faced determination.

"Alright then, if you say so" the sergeant gave an incredulous huff before turning to face the meandering groups of waiting marines. "Alright listen up! Who wants to run the course with Zander?" the sergeant barked and everyone was immediately silent.

Aside from when he was at school, Zander was always on base with the soldiers. It was hard not to know Zander, in fact many of the resident marines treated him like a little brother. Still, he was not a marine and none of the instructors would force recruits to run a course with him. It was never a problem though as there were always some willing volunteers.

When enough people had stepped up to run the course with Zander, they were put on deck to run the course after the squads that had already checked in.

The time passed slowly as Zander stood idle. He never really talked to any of the recruits when he was waiting around like this, not for lack of trying on their part. Zander's mind was elsewhere, too busy getting himself in the mindset required to drive himself forward at one hundred and ten percent of his willpower. He knew his father wouldn't settle for anything less than a perfect score.

"Zander! Zander!" one of the recruits started waving their hands in front of his face, apparently they had been trying to get his attention while he zoned out. "We're up next man, get ready!".

"Huh? Oh, right, right."

Sure enough, a few minutes passed and the volunteer unit that had formed to run Zander through the course found themselves moving into the starting position.

"Alright marines, move out!" Sergeant Perez gave the order and the unit was away.

The next hour was a grueling trudge through some of the worst that the jungle could offer. The group waded through swamps, climbed up rock faces, navigated thick jungle, and crawled through tunnels no larger than an air vent.

Zander's body ached, more than he could ever remember it hurting. With teeth clenched and a white knuckle grip on the assault rifle he had to carry for the course, he pushed himself through every obstacle.

It was the final stretch of the course now, and Zander's unit was moving at a run downhill towards the finish line. Their path led them to a large rock they had to jump from to continue their downward progression. Zander was the last to jump down, and he did so at a dead run just like the rest of his squad had.

_Pop._

Zander's left knee gave a loud pop and a pain shot through his leg. The appendage gave out and brought him down to one knee

Trying to fight through it he pushed forward, trying to limp on the burning limb. Every bone in his body began to throb from the rough impact. His ribcage burned as the bones seemed to throb and his diaphragm began to spasm.

Having difficulty breathing and with every bone in his body launching surges of pain up his nervous system, Zander stumbled. The last thing he remembered was the ground coming up to meet him.

* * *

The lingering embrace of winter hung on display outside the hospital window of one Hisao Nakai, but the scene was one he had long since forgotten. The glassy portal to the world outside this room was no longer a subject of interest to the boy who had the same scene playing out before him for four months. Instead, Hisao had retreated into his own thoughts as he often did when he was not reading.

The world inside his mind was an embittered one, a frothing, turbulent mindscape of hopes and dreams slowly decomposing into an apathetic outlook on his skewed concept of life.

Arrhythmia they call it, the strange and alien word that brought about the death of the life as he knew it. The very same word that brought about the grim sense of mortality that clung to the walls of the hospital room around him.

Of course, there is no cure for Arrhythmia, only managing to survive with it.

Time seemed to drag for the recovering Hisao, and cynicism grew with each passing day. It hadn't been long before the get-well gifts and visitors stopped coming, and realization washed over Hisao that the sending of sympathy had only been a class project. Whether this is true, or the cynical paranoia he had developed remained to be seen.

Iwanako had been the last person to stop visiting, her confession to him that fateful day never brought to light again. One day she just stopped coming, and Hisao never saw her again. In his mind, he had been all but forgotten by everyone.

Stupid heart...

Stupid hospital...

Everything in the hospital was so impersonal: the inoffensive colors, the stock pictures, the positive attitude of the doctors, the cheer of the nurses. It made Hisao uncomfortable, he would much rather bury himself in a book. He felt more connected to books, it was almost as if his life had become like one of the many stories he read.

The days marched on, and brick by brick Hisao built a wall of nonchalance as the cardiologist danced around his questions. It got to the point where he no longer expected a straight answer when he asked about his condition, and when he could go home.

Then as suddenly as it all began, life twisted and turned him upside down again.

It all came out of nowhere so fast . Over a dozen different prescriptions were dropped into his father's hands, the list of possible side effects nearly equal to the number of prescriptions. A sudden wave of nausea as Hisao's eyes flitter from medication to medication.

"Also, I've spoken with your parents and we believe that it would be best if you don't return to your old school" the statement rather than the voice rips Hisao's attention away from the list of prescriptions.

It was a repeat of his early days in the hospital. Hope for a normal life withered and died as bitterness wormed it's way behind his apathetic shield and back into his heart.

The words 'Yamaku Acadamy' and 'disabled' filter through Hisao's ears and into his brain.

'_Disabled? What? Am I...'_That worm of bitterness writhes and wriggles for a moment at the thought.

The doctor goes on to explain the function of Yamaku, and press the idea that it promotes independence. Hisao mentally scoffs at the idea, frothing at the idea the doctor is trying to disguise the fact that Yamaku is a school for disabled kids. After all, if it was really 'free' and 'independent' there would be no 24-hour nursing staff.

The doctor makes some attempt to reassure Hisao by mentioning that people with his condition tend to live long lives, and calling Yamaku an opportunity to continue his education. Hisao however, finds himself offended by the idea someone would consider this an opportunity.

The attempts to reassure Hisao of his situation continue from both his parents and the doctor, but the cold sense of embitterment refuses to find any solace in it. The boy's well rehearsed apathy returns in full force, and he resigns himself to the hand he is dealt.

The logical part of his brain tries to force him to look at a positive aspect of his situation, any positive aspect. A clean slate, that's something he can pull out of this mucked up life he's trying to salvage. At the very least he can look at it as a fresh start, and try to see what his new life will look like.

_'I wonder how many others have been through this...? How many others have felt this way?'._Hisao laid back down once his parents and the doctor had left the room. Left to his own devices again, he mused for a moment on the idea that there must be others with similar conditions. However this train of thought broke down quickly, and Hisao was back to his embittered thoughts.

Little did Hisao know, that just a few weeks ago, someone else was beginning a similar struggle.

* * *

Zander began to stir as he slowly regained consciousness. The steady beeping of a heartbeat monitor reaches his notice before he even opens his eyes. Suddenly his eyes shoot wide open, vision crystal clear as he takes in his surroundings. His expression is stoic but one could see the pieces coming together behind his pale green eyes. The next thing to hit him was the utter numbness that reigned over his body, and looking over at the I.V. drip he had a feeling he was on painkillers of some sort.

There didn't seem to be anyone in the room with him, no nurses, no doctors, nobody. Looking around for a moment, Zander located and pressed the call button for the nurse station -though not without a lethargic difficulty. It seemed to take longer than it should have for someone to show up, but instead of a nurse a doctor entered the room. The nurse must have seen the room the call came from and notified the doctor that Zander was awake.

"Look who is finally awake," the doctor spoke in Japanese, and while Zander was fluent, it took him off-guard for a moment.

"Yes sir, I take it I am not at the infirmary in Camp Gonsalves," Zander's speech was collected and respectful, like one would speak to a superior officer in the military.

"Easy now, you hit your head fairly hard when you fell. Camp Gonsalves has a fairly competent infirmary, but your injury merited a trip to a higher grade trauma center. We have a lot to talk about." The doctor didn't sound like he was relishing the idea of the upcoming conversation, but he was putting on a reassuring look the best he could.

A cold weight began to grow in the pit of Zander's stomach. When a doctor tells you there is a lot to talk about, it's almost never good news. He says nothing however, swallowing his nervousness and waiting for the doctor to continue.

"You see, we had to do some x-ray scans when you came in because of the head injury and the fall in general. Your skull was actually _cracked_by the force of impact. It was just a hairline fracture but you were wearing a helmet and it seemed peculiar for such an occurrence," the doctor explained as he came to sit down on the edge of Zander's bed.

Zander narrows his eyes slightly as he listens to the doctor. Even when the man stops speaking the boy keeps his eyes locked on the doctor, a look of expectation-no, _knowing-_in his eyes. The doctor gives a deep sigh before continuing.

"After some testing , we discovered that you have a bone disease known as Hypophosphatasia and other bone complications. Whether they are related to the Hypophosphatasia or came about on their own is currently unknown," the doctor finally came out and dropped the bomb that Zander was expecting.

"I see," Zander said, his eyes cast down to the white sheets clutched in his fists. Suddenly, his eyes shot back up to meet the doctors. There was a fire burning in those eyes, a blazing determination that seemed to spring forth from the very depths of his being. "How do I beat this doctor? What's the treatment?" he asked forcefully, it was as if he were demanding to know how he might smite this disease.

"Well you see..." the doctor trailed off. Zander could feel the muscles in his jaw tighten. "The disease has no actual cure, it can only be managed. In your case though I have a particularly positive outlook, you're in the best physical shape of anyone I have ever seen with a bone disease. Your x-rays show that you have suffered many hairline fractures -likely from the amount of physical activity you partake in. That you have never been to the hospital for them is astounding. Your high threshold for pain and your physical fitness leads me to believe you have the possibility to lead a long life, provided you take the proper precautions. The doctor did seem sincere in what he was saying.

The word 'possibility' struck Zander like a hammer. There was a _possibility_he would lead a long life, and that chance only stemmed from his otherwise physically fit condition. What if he had not been so lucky?

"Proper precautions...?" Zander questioned numbly.

"Yes, proper precautions. There is a regimen of medication you will have to be on to slow the deteriorating condition of your bones, and to manage the pain you will be in. Currently, out greatest concern is the issues with your bone marrow. If it is not managed properly and the chemical deficiencies in your body are not compensated for, then your bone marrow will produce more and more defective blood cells. Should this happen it will greatly increase your risk for heart complications, stroke, or even brain aneurism." The doctor explained this in the cool, methodical way all doctors flaunted their medical knowledge.

"Pain management? Bone marrow defections? Doctor, this is really hard to take," Zander said as he brought his hands up to massage his temples. The result of this action was not what he had anticipated. A sharp throb of pain reached his awareness as he rubbed.

"Please, I know this is a lot but you have to listen carefully. Due to your concussion, and the fallibility of your bones we had to operate on your skull to alleviate the cranial pressure that had been incurred by your fall. Under no circumstances should you hit your head, even a small bump merits telling someone and getting examined." The doctor was suddenly as serious as a heart attack. "If fluid starts to build up in your skull again it needs to be drained or you will risk brain damage."

"I understand..."

"Right now you're on a lot of pain medication, so you may not feel as bad as you are. It seems in the past few weeks your disease has progressed into its mature stages, and thus why you suddenly had what is most easily described as a severe 'arthritis attack'. This is a very complicated and diverse disease Zander, it can manifest itself in many different ways and cause unforeseen issues" the doctor seemed to be working up for one final bomb to drop.

"There is a high school on mainland Japan known as the Yamaku Academy. It is a school for disabled stu-" the doctor found himself suddenly cut off.

"Disabled? Doctor, I am close to the legal age to enlist in the U.S. Marines. It's what I have been preparing for my whole life!" He was sitting straight up in his bed now, teeth clenched and knuckles white.

"I don't think you quite understand the seriousness of your condition Zander. Even when you're managing this disease, your bones are never going to be the same again. They will never be strong enough for the intense requirements of a soldier's life. I already spoke to your father with this and-" the doctor was cut off again.

"You told him that I would never be a Marine?" Zander felt his eyelids droop, his half-gaze dropping back down to the sheets.

"Well, yes".

"And I'll bet that when you suggested the disabled school, he didn't even protest?"

There was a long pause from the doctor, as if he were looking for some positive way to phrase his answer.

"I'm sure your father only has your best interest at heart." Despite his best efforts, the doctor sounded a bit put off at his recollection of the conversation.

"How long before I can get out of here?" Zander's tone returned to normal, his brow furrowed as his usual neutral expression attempted to make its return. He refused to be useless, if he had anything to work toward, he was going to dive head first into it.

"Well there is the matter of physical therapy for your knee, a week or two of observation, and perhaps another week of observation to see how you take to your medications." The doctor almost seemed taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor.

"Physical therapy...well, I suppose we should get to work".

* * *

Taking notes in any math or science class was just a formality for Hisao. If there was one thing the boy could claim came easy to him, it would be a grasp of numbers and equations. Even as he half-heartedly scribbled notes into his notebook, his mind was elsewhere.

From the moment he had been informed of his forced transfer to Yamaku Academy, his life seemed to be swept into a tailspin. It were as if he had lost all emotional control-nay, as if he had lost _any_semblance of control he had at all. His mood pitched and yawed between apathy and a sharp embitterment at the slightest provocation: being winded after a flight of stairs, the unfamiliar surroundings of the school grounds, having to check in with a nurse, the copious number of prescriptions that lined his dresser.

A brief reprieve from his cynicism came in the form of wonderment. All around him were students equally as disabled as he, if not even more debilitated. At least this is the way he thought of it-in terms of disability and severity of said debilitation. Maybe there was a violation of political correctness in this frame of mind, but in his current state he simply could not muster up the will to care.

He felt like an outsider here, it was hard to get used to the idea that he belonged among these students who actually required the aid and support this school provided. The stomach-churning truth washed over him for the umpteenth time that day; the slightest accident could very well kill him. If he fell, if someone bumped him too hard, if he grew overly excited, it could send his defective heart into a self-destructive frenzy that had a strong possibility of ending his life.

_'Is that what my life boils down to? Minimizing the chances that my body will kill itself and tiptoeing around every passerby to ensure they don't become my makeshift murderer?_' The idea that every time he decided to move faster than a leisurely walk had become a game of high stakes Russian roulette, was simply mind blowing to Hisao.

The sound of students packing up their things and chairs grinding against the floor tore Hisao away from his morbid musings. Apparently he had been so lost in thought that he lost track of time. There was not all that much time for him to zone out as before he could leave, he was approached by the infamous student council duo.

* * *

Hisao was still fuzzy on how the sequence of events that lead up to his current predicament, but somehow Shizune and Misha had goaded him into going to lunch with them. The pink-haired girl had such a powerful presence, it seemed to make up for the lack of noise brought about by Shizune's mute nature.

They were an interesting pair, that was for sure. Shizune was deaf and mute. That much Hisao was able to gather. How she had managed to obtain such a seemingly opposite interpreter was what baffled him. Misha interpreted everything that both she and he said so that Shizune was kept in the conversational loop. Did she learn sign language exclusively to communicate with Shizune?

That brought him back to his original train of thought. He wanted to inquire about Shizune's deafness, something about the inability to capture the sounds of the surrounding world piqued his curiosity. In a rather ironic twist of cognition, Hisao chose now of all times to be sensitive to the idea that perhaps it was not the best idea to focus solely on an individual's disability -or at least not polite to pry about it.

By the time Hisao had returned home, his head was spinning with the events of the day, not the least of which included his board game defeat at the hands of Shizune the master tactician. How did she have the time to get so good at Risk anyway? A lot of his day comprised of Shizune and Misha doing their best to strong-arm him into the Student Council, their big argument being that the council was swamped with work and needed more members.

_'Despite my best efforts, she repelled me on all fronts.'_Even considering the defeatist connotation, he couldn't help but consider it an enjoyable time. Next time, he was sure his aggressive strategy would pay off.

On his way back to his dorm room, he noticed that one of the other rooms now had a name beside it. Apparently he was not to be the only transfer this year. His first reaction was to wonder what disability this student suffered to merit a transfer. That was the only way someone would transfer in was it not? A sudden onset of some disability or another?

_'Keir Zander, that is most certainly a foreign name.'_ Hisao read the name and pondered its before filing it away at the back of his mind for later contemplation. In the meanwhile it was time for him to settle into his room and prepare for the next day.

* * *

The weeks of physical therapy were almost insulting to Zander, he had been pushing the physical limits of the human body since he could walk. That he had to go back to those basic fundamentals of putting one foot after the other while holding onto a railing or a walker, it was downright disgraceful. His distaste was not directed at the doctors or the therapists, but at himself for being so weak. While he knew it was a condition he had no control over, it had simply been bred into him that if he failed, he was doing it wrong.

In Zander's eyes his condition was the biggest kind of setback, though one he rushed to correct through sheer force of will if nothing else. Once he was back on his feet however, he was accosted by a new and far more frustrating dilemma. Before the discovery of his disease, Zander's life had been all but set in stone. He was going to be a Marine, plain and simple. Now everything he knew-everything he thought he knew-had been torn away from him by the inconvenient placement of a few recessive alleles.

He could come to terms with the idea that he would never be a soldier, but the idea that he was without a goal or purpose made him uncomfortable. Whenever any of the men he knew from back on base came to visit, he could feel the parasite of uncertainty writhing and squirming just beneath the polite facade he wore. They were always nice and supportive of him, but the look on their faces said the same thing: that they felt sorry for him. He was the poor kid who might not live to see a ripe old age, the kid who may one day be confined to a wheelchair. He had the misfortune of being _broken, _someone to be pitied.

By the time Zander had finished his physical therapy, he had grown significantly more inward. The boy had become deeply contemplative of his situation and his future, his perpetually stoic demeanor the only indicator his mind was elsewhere. He had been left to his own devices now, there was no more direction to his jumbled life, no more orders to follow. Zander felt abandoned by those that had been a part of his old life, a feeling only deepened by the absence of his father throughout his grueling recovery.

He had to build his own life now, a choice he had been deprived of until now. Zander was like a beast bred in captivity and released to the wild, he had always been told what to want. Now that he had to forge a new path, he was unsure of where to even begin.

Much of the trip to Yamaku was spent contemplating this newfound "freedom." The ride was as quiet as the flight to mainland Japan had been. After the first few attempts Corporal Tannis made to make conversation with Zander, he understood that the boy was simply too lost in thought to talk. The Corporal had been tasked to take Zander to Yamaku under the pretense that Commander Keir was too busy to do so himself.

The entire journey from Camp Gonsalves to the Yamaku Academy was a blur, Zander's contemplative numbness the key component to this seemingly instant transition across time and space.

_'This is it, I'm really... here.' _The cold grip of reality wrapped its fingers tightly around his heart as the finality of it all washed over him. This _was_ a school for the disabled, a school _he_was enrolled in. From this gate forward, he was on his own.

"Zander?" The voice of Corporal Tannis ripped Zander back to reality where he found himself staring at the academy gate. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Zander looked back to the man, he looked genuinely concerned for the boy.

"No sir, I'll be fine." His even tone did not reflect the uncertainty that threatened to churn the contents of his stomach into a nauseous boil.

The Corporal looked hesitant for a moment, but didn't question Zander.

"Alright then, good luck." the Corporal said as he opened the back door of the taxi. "Oh and Zander? Semper Fi." Tannis turned fully to face Zander and gave him a crisp salute.

For the first time since he was in the hospital, Zander offered a genuine smile. Dropping his bags to the ground beside him he returned the salute.

"Semper Fi."

Turning back towards the taxi, the Corporal sat down and closed the door. The car pulled away from the curb and headed back down the road towards the airport. Zander followed the taxi with his eyes until he could no longer see the vehicle in the distance.

Picking his bags back up, he looked to the sky. The sun was rising, and there was quite a bit for him to do in the day ahead. First however, he needed to find the administration office so that he could get the key to his dorm. He was determined to get through this, one step at a time.

Pushing through the gate and onto the school grounds, the first thing he noticed was the overwhelming amount of green that surrounded him. It was an unfamiliar green, it lacked the rugged quality of the jungles that surrounded the Marine base. It was much more tranquil, a peaceful green that Zander was unsure how to feel about.

Despite his uncertainty, he found it calming at the very least. His leisurely walk across the school grounds served to ease his nerves, if only slightly.

His visit to the administration building was brief, Zander was informed of his classes and given the key to his dorm. When his business was taken care of he headed for the dorms in search of his room.

The hall he found himself in was surprisingly devoid of other students, only two of the rooms occupied by anyone. It reminded him a lot of the hospital, wide hallways to accommodate for wheelchairs, inoffensive paint and wallpaper, hypoallergenic flooring.

_'I'm not sure what I was expecting.'_ He thought to himself. _'This place functions as an assisted care facility for all intents and purposes.'_He felt that the lush and lively school grounds lulled him into a false sense of security, only to be betrayed by the utilitarian hospital structure of the dorms.

Zander shook his head quickly after realizing what he was thinking. How could he be so selfish? There were students here who required these necessities to get around and continue functioning. Who was he to scoff at them just because of the bitter reminder they presented?

Zander released a deep sigh as he slid the key he was issued into the lock of his door, and pushed it open. There was only the slightest of pauses before the young man stepped past the threshold of the door and into a fresh start.

The would-be Marine didn't think it was possible for living quarters to be more bare-bones than a Marine barracks, but this dorm was a testament to the contrary. That was fine by him, it was all he needed to get started. After a quick survey of what he had to work with, he found that his uniforms were already in the closet -likely placed there in anticipation of his arrival this morning.

Much of the early day hours were spent unpacking his things, organizing his desk, and sorting out his class materials. A dull ache in his joints as he worked served as a reminder that it was time for him to take his medication. This in turn reminded him that he was supposed to pay a visit to the nurse's office before class to check in.

Zander decided it would be best to visit the nurse right before he went to class, that way he could just go right to class when he was finished. In the meantime he finished unpacking his clothes, pausing only for a moment when he got to the camouflage Marine uniforms.

Why did he bother holding onto these? The very fact that he was here in this dorm meant that he would never be back at Camp Gonsalves with the uniform in his hands.

_'Because I cannot forget what made me who I am.'_He answered his own question with a nod of self affirmation.

A quick glance at the clock notified Zander that it was time for him to change into his school uniform and head towards the nurse's office. This of course was accounting for the time it would take for him to track down the office and the correct classroom.

When Zander was dressed, he looked in the mirror to make sure that he was prim and proper. Settling for no less than perfection, he correct each and every imperfection in his look just as he always had with the dress uniform he was issued previously.

When he was satisfied with the state of his appearance, he collected all the things needed for class, and left his room. Locking the door behind him, he made his way back out to the campus grounds.

Zander noted the campus was still fairly dead. It was peculiar to him given that he had been getting up every morning at 4am for as long as he could remember. Camp Gonsalves was always lively from the time he woke up, until the time he went to bed at around 11 PM.

Not encountering a single soul in his search for the clinic, he found himself standing outside the desired office. Not sure if it was polite to walk right in, he offered a knock first.

"Come in" a male voice called without hesitation.

Opening the door and stepping inside, Zander closed the door behind him and stood ramrod straight.

"I'm Zander Keir, reporting here to check in as requested of me by the administration office," he said, his upbringing showing without restraint.

"Easy there soldier," the nurse chuckled; a mild-mannered man by the looks of it. He had the face of someone who did a lot of smiling, the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly even when they were relaxed. "Zander Keir... ah yes! I was just going over your file actually. It seems you and I are going to be seeing a lot of one another, weekly joint injections for pain management and testing of your alkaline phosphate levels. According to the file Yamaku was sent by the hospital you're not due for an injection for another three days so make sure you stop by for it."

"Yes sir, I'll be sure to," Zander replied, his expression rather stoic.

"Hey now, no need to be so stiff," the nurse added, his smile fading slightly.

Zander blinked, a look of mild confusion playing across his features-he clearly didn't understand what the nurse meant.

"Anyway," the nurse began, his smile returning "there are plenty of things to do on campus to stay active. With a condition like yours it is imperative to make sure you stay in shape. It will make things easier for you in the long run and help you manage your bones better." It was apparent that when talking about matters regarding student health, he could become very serious.

"I understand," Zander replied with a small nod.

"Good, oh and one more thing. There is another student that just transferred in, his name is Hisao Nakai and if I am not mistaken he is in your class. You're both new here, so maybe you can help one another get acclimated huh? Just some food for thought" the nurse said before offering a small shrug. "Alright, that's all I needed to see you about so just make sure that you stop by for those injections!"

A quiet nod of assurance before the boy turned and left the clinic. Now all he had to do was track down his class, he had plenty of time to do so thanks to the extra time he left himself by leaving early.

All in a sudden however, he felt himself afflicted by a new wave of nerves. What were the kids in his class going to be like? This was a school for disabled kids, and so far he hadn't even seen another student so he had no idea of what to expect.

Another issue was that he was obviously of foreign blood, and he was acutely aware that there were cliques of students in his old school that disliked him for that very reason. Even as anxiety sat heavily in the pit of his stomach like doubt wrapped in lead, he kept a neutral expression. Regardless of what awaited him, he needed to stay strong, for stubborn determination was all he had left to cling to.

* * *

Hisao was in the midst of simultaneously trying to understand why Misha was so loud, and trying to understand how someone could not know the meaning behind a festival. When Mutou entered the classroom, he was a bit late, but he demanded attention immediately with a pointed gaze at the oblivious pink-haired girl.

What caught Hisao's attention however, was not the attention being directed his way, but rather the student he had never seen before standing at the door. The new student didn't seem to have any expression on his face at all, complete and utter neutrality. He had short, jet black hair that looked clean and was styled up, and light green eyes. His facial features were definitely foreign but didn't seem to fit any nationality exactly. He was about as tall as Hisao himself, maybe just a smidgen taller. This kid had broader shoulders though and looked as if he were rather athletic given the sturdy look of his physique.

_'What's wrong with him though?'_Hisao wondered, unable to discern any sort of disability right away. It clicked that this new kid might have an internal disability like he did.

"We have a new transfer student here today who would like to introduce himself," Mutou announced once he had the attention of the class. Turning his head to the newcomer, he gestured for him to make his introduction.

Moving to the center of the room, the black-haired kid drew himself up to a straight posture and started speaking.

"My name is Zander Keir, I'm from the United States military base on Okinawa" his tone was even and controlled.

Hisao noticed that Zander seemed to hesitate slightly, a flash of uncertainty on his face before it melted back to the mask of neutrality he was wearing. So this was the person who moved into his hall?

"I look forward to getting to know my classmates," he said finally, apparently he had nothing to say on the subject of hobbies.

Zander looked over to Mutou who nodded. Leaving his position at the front of the class, the new student took a seat at an empty desk in the back of the room. More than a few pairs of eyes followed him as he passed by.

Hisao wondered if they were staring him down because they were trying to find his disability, because he was the new kid, or because he was clearly foreign -American at that.

Before there can be any more musing on the subject Mutou begins his lecture, and the attention of the class is directed back to the front of the room. The gazes all drifted away from the black-haired newcomer one by one. A certain deaf-mute and her pink-haired shadow were the last to tear their gazes away, every new body was to be considered for the purposes of the Student Council of course.

When the time came to do group work, Hisao looked back at the new student who wasted no time in getting to work. He made no attempt to try and join any groups, but he didn't slink away to the back corner to get away from people either.

Hisao briefly considered asking Zander if he wanted to join their group, but decided against it -that the kid already seemed to be settled into his work was justification enough.

"So Hicchan~?" Misha's loud voice caught Hisao's attention.

"Do you have any plans for lunch today?" she asked, both her and Shizune trying to look as cute as possible. Their plans to try and absorb Hisao into the Student Council running smoothly thus far.

"Er..." in truth, Hisao had intended to stop by the library to pick up some books. "...Not really."

"Hahahaha~! Do you want to have lunch together then Hicchan?"

"Sure."

Catching a glimpse of Zander over Misha's shoulder, he seemed to be looking this way -no, he seemed to be looking at Misha. He had an eyebrow cocked, a somewhat befuddled expression on his face before he turned his attention back to his work. Hisao couldn't blame him, Misha was hardly subtle. She could probably wake the dead should she pass a graveyard while laughing.

The rest of the group work passed without major incident, though in the middle of the class, one of the girls in the back just up and left without a word. When the time came to hand in the work, Shizune was slightly agitated that it had taken them so long to finish their work.

"It's not a contest or anything," Hisao said offhandedly.

"Yes it is, Hicchan!" Misha was there to give voice to Shizune's sign language.

"Impossible. It's not a contest, because contests are competitions over a prize. If there is no prize on the line, it's not really a contest."

A dangerous glint of competition flashes in Shizune's eyes as she starts to sign. For the briefest of moments, Hisao is enamored by those fierce dark blues.

"Hahaha! You're wrong Hicchan! Because~!, I don't want to be the slowest one in the class. Therefore, what's on the line is my confidence in my abilities, the prize is the satisfaction of proving them. Even the new student finished before us, and he was working alone~!" Despite the words being Shizune's, the overly loud manner by which Misha projects her voice catches Zander's attention.

Once again, Hisao watched as he looked up at Misha, eyes slightly narrowed as if trying to gauge the implication of her statement. In the end he simply gave a subtle shake of the head and started packing up his things.

Hisao heaved a sigh, he could only guess what his new floor-mate thought about them now.

"What's the matter Hicchan?" Misha asked, but Hisao wasn't sure which of the two the question had come from.

"Nothing, really" he replied quickly.

The bell that signified the end of class sounded, and all the students got up and made for the door. Once outside the room, Hisao was immediately flanked by Shizune and Misha. The mass of students pushing through the halls hardly a deterrent to their tenacity in making sure he made good on his word.

"So where do you want to eat?" Misha asked in her usual bubbly manner.

"The cafeteria?"

Misha was making some comment about the boringness of his choice as one more student exited the classroom. Zander, passed them by without a second thought as he too seemed to be heading toward the cafeteria.

The trio arrived at the cafeteria not long after their conversation ended, and Hisao wondered how it was that so many students managed to choke down the food that was served.

_'This food is pretty awful...' _Hisao thought to himself as he took another regrettable bite.

"So Hicchan, you were talking about clubs and activities before. Do you have anything you're really interested in?" Misha and Shizune set the trap, there was no escaping now.

* * *

_'This food is so much better than the slop served on base,'_Zander thought to himself contentedly, shoveling forkful after forkful into his mouth. Back on base, Zander was used to eating fast and getting out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the same pink head of hair that had been talking about him in class. Something about "even the new student finished before us", what was that supposed to mean? He really couldn't get a read on if it was a slight directed at him, or if it was simply because a group of three people failed to finish before him.

When his food was done, and it was just about time to go back to class, Zander threw away his garbage and made for the door.

"Hey wait~!" before he even turned around, Zander knew who that unmistakably loud voice belonged too. Oddly enough, the loudness didn't really bother him. He grew up on a Marine base, everyone was loud or screaming at all times so in actuality, it provided a sort of comfortable familiarity in this otherwise quiet school.

Zander turned around hesitantly, not sure if that was directed at him. Sure enough, the two girls and their group-mate were quickly encroaching upon him. He didn't say anything, he simply waited for one of them to say why they had stopped him.

"Hi~! I'm Misha, and this is Shicchan!" Misha exclaims with an overwhelming sense of exuberance. The girl beside her gives a silent huff before signing at Misha quickly.

"Er... I mean~! This is Shizune Hakamichi and she is our class representative, as well as Student Council president! We wanted to welcome you to the school and see if you have any questions! Hahaha~!"

It didn't take much to put two and two together. Shizune was deaf, and with Misha signing everything she says and interpreting what Shizune was signing, Zander could infer that some of this was coming from Shizune rather than Misha.

"I'm Zander, it's nice to meet you both" he said with a polite bow of his head, his expression was still fairly neutral as was the tone of his voice. "What is your name, again?" Zander directed this question at Hisao.

"Oh me?" Hisao asked after a moment of hesitation. "Hisao, Hisao Nakai. Actually I think you and I live on the same floor of the dorms."

Had he not been having this conversation right now Zander would never have known Shizune was deaf. A lot of the other students in their class had obvious disabilities, but these three not so much. He wondered what was the matter with Misha and Hisao, maybe they had something internal like he did?

Questions, they asked him if he had any questions about the school. Did he have any questions? He wasn't sure, he really hadn't thought about it until now. Maybe this would be a good way to find something he could do to make himself useful? Though Zander pondered if he shouldn't just lay low until he got a better feel for things:

[1. Ask what there is to do at Yamaku.]

[2. Say he has no questions.]

* * *

A/N: Alright, the first chapter is completed! Thank you for reading and I apologize that it was so heavily focused on the OC, but they require a bit of background development just like any other character. Please send the choice for your votes to me via the poll in my profile, and keep the reviews section for reviews only. When ten days pass I will count the votes and the winning choice will be implemented, unless I receive an overwhelming amount of feedback. If that is the case, I will cut the deadline down to a week.


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